Faults of Blood
by Trapdoor Heaven
Summary: Connected by blood, for the 'greater good' twins must age abnormally fast. For the fight of their survival and ultimately to play their true parts as the pawns they were bred to be.
1. Drift

**First Fire Emblem story, the beginning is slightly rushed just for the fact that the story ages with that of the characters. Tell me what you think and you know the rest.**

* * *

 _Time. Time, what exactly is it? Well for starters, who gives a damn._

Life started out fine and dandy if that's what is considered for a child of rusty red hair that trains to kill in his twin's place. He wasn't family, no, he was the shadow of the feet that pounded their world in. His hands were bandaged so the stains never actually touched his heart.

Clashing a sword made of steel against that of his brother's bronze, pushing the younger back slightly in the sand. He smiled faintly as the other weakly stabbed the blue-ish sword into the soft ground panting. His white hair covering his facial features.

"Boys! Time for supper!"

Both of their heads shot up, a spark flashing between the golden brown and crimson orbs then raising towards the grand carved doors to the dining room. Practically jumping into their seats, grinning from ear to ear as their mother and a maid walked out carrying plates for each one. The maid holding extra for the mother.

"Nobility should never cook, yada yada yada, honestly if your father wouldn't be off trying to get a seat next to the throne or better, the leader of the Grimleal." Their mother scoffed. It was pretty apparent that her hate for the man was growing. "To have cut into his own sons' hands saying that the order is wrong. Then to tell me that you guys must know how to fight even you're only four years of age. Disgraceful."

They nibbled on the well made meat and vegetables, stealing glances at each other as their mother rambled. Both had looked down to their right hands, one having memories of a knife stabbing it's surface apart. The other, the other's hand had a detailed scar form on his hand because his father knows of their birthright. Though the scarring is more delicate than the roughish form from the stabbing of the design.

Only memories of hate for their father.

The nights were often like this, the children never cared much. They lived in solitude except for each other, the younger one was far more friendly whilst the elder was more fiendish. Though for reasons unbeknownst to them, today was different. As they were taken to their beds, the mother stood closely to the white hair. Wishing the eldest the best of dreams before taking the hand of the younger one down the steps.

The child only had time to gather his bronze sword and a few books. Taking the ceremonial coat has he walk after his month and picked up onto their horse. His brown orbs only peered back to the house to a single window that which he saw a pair of glowing red eyes.

His childhood. Gone.


	2. Parting

Rushing through the house, the striking figure broke down the doors leading to that of the child. Curses were holding the air heavy as the father dragged his own blood from the comforts of the bed to the icy courtyard. Stumbling to ground, confusion spread across the face. The four year old looked in fright, before he could react the father used a wind spell sending the child flying back into one of the walls on the other side.

"Grab your sword and fight, you worthless ape." The contempt in his voice was evident as he pulled out a different tome. "You let the heart leave, you should have cut down that stupid whore!"

A low growl emitted from the child's mouth before he grabbed his steel sword, charging his father. The blade sharpening as it races across the floor gaining sparks whilst the child raced forward. His strength was meaningless as the father used a wind spell again to throw the child back.

The dawning light started to peek into the courtyard, collapsed laid the rusty child fiercely gripping his sword. The father combed back his blacken hair as he approached the child. Kneeling drop his eyes danced in rage.

"For someone of my blood to be so weak, I hear by disown you and the pure thought of your existence. You shall leave my home and Plegia because if I ever catch you within the borders, I shall have you executed for Grima's sake."

Words cut deep and nothing hurt the child than to lose everything, but the staff of the house proceeded to throw the child out of the walls and one maid snuck to him a basket, a basket of his survival. Whispers to him about Ferox to the north will be his safe haven. With the last of tears drying, the child ran, he ran through the drifting land. Frightened and alone. His training, meaningless, his knowledge, pointless.

Days, possibly months have occurred. The child's light wear were soon becoming worthless as the temperature kept dropping, his breath becoming more and more visible along with a landscape fading out of the despair into blossoming life.

Once he spotted lights that he dream for so much of since the dread hell he was put through. Falling to his knees with the rest of his weight on his forearms, he laughs. He laughs away the family he thought he had with tears forming, laughing to cure the abandonment his mother and brother did and the abuse his father laid out for not being chosen.

 _Who gives a damn. You were just born, this is your life! You have a greater purpose than self pity now rise._

"Huh?" The child looks around, but quickly shook the exhaustion. Raising to his feet, he walks into the village of lights. The roads were brown in some places, but the rest was white from the powder that laid across the land. He stumbles from house to house with fasciation all over his face. Though spotting a door wide open he promptly shuffle towards it, oddly it was just a large bald man hovering over an anvil striking the metal within the clamp.

"Uh, e-excuse me." Coughing repeatedly afterwards to the point his diaphragm constricting. The only thing he got was a glance out of the man with him gesturing to come forward.

"Where goes your family?" It was deep and unsettling, but also soothing.

"Is this Plegia? Or did I make it to Feox?"

"Regna Ferox? Unless there is another country like us then I never heard of it. If you were looking for Plegia, I would rather not. That land is a dying land."

"So this is Feox! Thank you sir." Sorrowful smile spreading across the child's face only allowing this rustic hair to cover his tears. He truly made it.

"Say what is your name kid?"

"It is Reflet."

"Plegian, hm. Are you planning to return to your family where they may be or stay within my home?" The jest flew over the child's head.

"My . . . My family had disowned me, I have no home sir."

"Well shi- I can make room for you to stay with me, but we will need you to have a name with no relations to the lower kingdom. Us villagers are not to kind when it comes to that mad king and waste land." He glanced around the room to an oil portrait that he received in exchange for farming equipment. Scratching his head, "How about from now on I call you, Wolf?"

"If it means a new home, I will gladly accept."

" 'ight then Wolf, get some rest. I have a delivery for the Khans at full rise and we will need to be getting up early for that along with a discussion if a Khan wishes to train you to become their sole fighter." Wolf only nodded, his life really has just begun though the information didn't make much sense to the four year old's mind as he was just happy not to be in the cold any longer. Snuggling closer to the fire, he rested his head in his arms and drifted to slumber. Reminiscing the fights with his brother and the treatment of the staff. His parents never came into play after the haunting journey.

The crack of light peeked through some trees as the old man fully loaded his wagon before lightly shaking the child. The blacksmith didn't expect the child to freak out and draw his sword. Chuckling to himself the blacksmith watched amused as the four year old slowly lowers the steel sword into the sheath.

"That sword is a little too big for you, don't you think?" His response was a head shake, clearly not use to the early waking. "Well then, come on we need to get moving. I never wish to see a Khan angry, it would be worse than your das- mad king." Leading Wolf to his wagon, though the kid made a break for a bush nearby to relieve the stress that was welling up his bowels. Promptly heading back to the older man who was containing his laughter. "We get pots for that you know, don't have to ruin some poor scrubs."

The kid was flushed almost the same red as his hair from embarrassment, life couldn't get worse than the first morning anew. Hopping onto the wagon the kid saw a blanket resting on the railing, grabbing it and wrapping to around his thin body.

"You hot blooded? Well makes sense because of your Plegian heritage. The heat is always prominent on that side of the border."

The conversation ended there, the ride lasted a good five hours though it was five hours of peaceful silence. No risk of death though the blacksmith and Wolf had their meal whilst the wagon was moving, but food is food in the world of hunger.

Time faded when the pair arrived at a massive struck, the palace of the khans and more importantly it was Arena Ferox. Hopping off the wooden seat the blacksmith went to the back and gestured Wolf to follow. Unloading swords, axes, lances, spears and anything that have a hint of metal and bringing it indoors where guards and the khan of the west Basilio. A huge smile plastered on his face and to Wolf's surprise, almost bare to the bloody cold.

"Hey, blacksmith comes to replenish my win. I see you also brought a very young lad with you." Causing Wolf to hide behind the leg of the blacksmith.

"Actually Khan Basilio, I was wondering if you could take young Wolf here to be your fighter."

"Bahahaha! This little guy can't compete with my current guy. I won't risk the loss for him, my friend."

"Khan Basilio, please at least take him and train him to be the greatest fighter. He came up to my doorstep with only his clothes, a basket and a steel sword slung around his shoulder. This child is special" the blacksmith leaned in close to Basilio whispering words inaudible to Wolf who kept getting glances from the people.

"Alright, alright, I'll take the boy to train him. I won't say he is fighting material, and in ten years, if he isn't able to surpass my top man then I'll leave him for Flavia to take him if she so wishes."

"Oh thank you Khan Basilio!" Turns to Wolf, "I know your stay with me is short, but believe me when I say the Khan is the best person you can get to train you. You're special Wolf, it's obvious when you made it to me from all the way in Plegia."

 _Special? Yes, but not for the same as is your purpose that is truly special._


	3. Anew

"Mother, back from the market!"

Rushing into the small home, removing his brown cloak revealing the shiny white locks. Setting a woven basket on the table and removing his cloak. He walks further inside to see his mother coated as she slides the brush in a particular motions. Sneaking carefully up to the peaceful figure, the picture this time was a repeat of the one she first painted when she first learned how. Albeit it was much too rough to thoroughly enjoy, but as the years grew the improvement shown.

The picture was simple enough, it was just a portrait of a fairly tan skin boy. The eyes were red with sorrow and the dull red hair complied with the rest of the child's features. Truthfully the young albino recognizes that something about the kid was important. His memory isn't the best when it came to his childhood. Keeping the painful thoughts and nightmares to the darkest depths they could possibly reach and only focusing on his present state.

"Oh Robin, please say that the trade was good. Gods know no one denies that of my son's charming self." It sounded bleak, as though it was forced for the most part yet some held truth.

"Twas mother, I also managed to get some free books. The elder of the village was kind enough to offer tutoring to become a clergyman. Though I turned down the offer."

"That is for the best." She set her brush down for the time being anticipating her son to go into a frenzy of questions like he had when they moved.

Robin looked at his mother, confused on to why though deciding it was best not to go further into it. He starts fiddling with the gloves he wears. Deciding they're better off than on. He glances to the back of his right hand, memorized by the scar. Staring at the delicate lines that was lightly traces against his skin.

"Hey mother, how did I get this scar again?" Raising his hand to his mother's view.

"The dastard of a father, but do not worry for you don't hold the whole heart, no sir. The blood you carry is near pure if not actually pure. Though there is another, another child much like yourself. He holds not only the greater mount, but he is fully tainted by it. The only thing that child cared for was his brother. Yet he couldn't be saved, it would've been a manhunt for everyone if he was to have left alongside his brother." She didn't bother looking at it, as she knew the design was more of a reminder for her mistake than the child.

"How is he tainted then?" Worry for himself growing, his curiosity was getting to him.

"He is a mere pawn 'vessel for the greater life' though truthfully no one understands you were part of it. He is the heart as you are the brains. The blood that circulates through the vessels of the body is not of your blood, but it is of the Fell Dragon's blood. Yet you could say that only a small amount runs through you, but his heart, his damned heart pumps the fell blood."

Robin couldn't respond. His life started ten years ago when his mother bought this small house and learning how to grow vegetables. The villagers greeted them nicely, accepting the random movement. The breeze is nice and all that. Robin wears now long boots up to his knees, with tan pants tucked. He wears a matching shirt with a small fitting jacket. He gradually stiffened having read about the Fell Dragon, better known as Grima and with great reasoning to stiffen, he was terrified of the stories he read. Nightmares of a six winged beast cascading over the world as everything dies or kills another.

The silence has gotten the better of him and Robin retired to his desk, stacks of books were displayed on top. Leaving his mother for her to focus on the painting, he cracks one open skimming through the text over the gods of the world. Life is bizarre for the fourteen year old considering a bronze sword is always with him, but he never really knows how to use it. It just held some form of importance when ever he gazed upon it that he couldn't leave it be. He had learned to pick up tomes thinking they're the more practical defense and only true weapon he would need. Never needing to get extremely close to an enemy served its uses especially when the common thief wields a petty knife and not something overtly threatening. Yet he grows weak from the lack of energy quite often.

Regardless of the weapon he uses, this is his true life, reading to further himself. Day fading into day and not once as the desk settled with dust. Books of the vast histories of Ylisse and Plegia, myths of an outer world with the vast realms not traveled. Fantasies of time travel and romance, of great beasts and hard decisions. The bindings becoming loose from use and the etchings becoming filthy from common dirt that would rise with the winds.

Fives years, five years pass and Robin is stuck. Unable to figure out for the life of him what he desires. Laying on his mat filled with straws hay, he stares at the wood that shelters him the outside. Life has gone no where, no where he wishes for it. Judgement getting the better of the anxious adult. Sneaking out of the house as his mother slept, slips on his only true jacket and sheaths his sword. Hiding a fire tome just in case of emergencies since bandit pillages have been more and more frequent.

Robin slips into the night, walks for hours on end patrolling the Plegian-Ylissean border as if he was some grand protector. Though his hours were brief and not reaching his usual turn point that was miles from his home. He starts to feel light headed. Dizzy even. Gasping and growling as a sudden pang erupts inside his mind. Voices and other nonsensical things rush into his mind as he collapses in a heap of sweat.

On a field of green is the inky death bleeding it dry. For morning is now and the life Robin wishes for becomes a reality.

 _Open your eyes, learn the truth and the ways._

As his eyes opened to a new scene, one of a vast hall with two other figures in the distance fighting. Noncontrolling of his own body, Robin launched a lightning bolt in the direction of a taller and lanky fellow. The figure knocked back whilst the other man clad in white took a slash at the lanky one. The white figure was bursted back and the other raising his hand with some form of dark magic luring above.

"Die!" Releasing the magic in the direction of the man, Robin again with no control reacted with another electric spell dispaciting the dark magic. Both rushing towards the taller man, Robin now having a sword drawn charged the left as the other charged the right. Slicing through the mage.

Having to the knees the mage emitted purple. With one last urge the mage shoot a spell one aimed to the man Robin knew nothing of. Yet his body protected that man taking a severe hit. Hazed vision and then a thumping headache making his world turn red, Robin could only feel the agony. The suffering he was going through not even paying attention to that of the words being uttered from the blue haired man.

Until it hit. A fatal blow directly to the abdominal by Robin himself, leaving the other man to fall and whither has the world fades to black.

 _Realize your destiny!_


	4. Reunite

**I release this story's chapters in two because I'm to have it play catch up with Lonely Goodbye and all have Place In Time be the slow poke for the pure fact that each while being similar are also drastically different.**

 **That being said this will follow the game's original story vaguely. This story will also not be another word for word, some stay the same while other conversations vary and so will the reasons because this is not the same time of Awakening, but a parallel world in a sense.**

 **That also being said, I don't have a beta reader so if I butch so much in the story. I apologize.**

* * *

"Chrom we have to do something." _Gods the voice rang through his ears._

"What do you suppose we do?" _The ringing won't stop, the pain in constant echoes._

"I-I don't know." Scrunching his nose, he crinkles his eyes before slowly opening them to the light of the sun. Before terror washes over his mind. His sight becomes clear as two figures hover over him. One on the left having cobalt hair and clad mostly in white with some form of marking on his shoulder. The right was a younger blonde with a yellow dress and some form of head garment.

"I see you're awake now." The man's eyes were also blue now that he really cared to look at him. The fright of obvious in his eyes.

"Hey there!" It was chipper. More so than that small fleeting idea in the back of his mind.

"There're are better places for taking a nap than on the ground, you know." The man soon then extended his arm outwards, offering it to him. "Here take my hand." He gave a faint smile, though it was probably from the amusement he was getting out of it.

'Who are they?' He wanted to run, he wanted to leave; yet these people have found him in a bizarre state and haven't raised him as a threat. "Uh thanks," he spoke meekly and just audible enough for it to catch wind.

"You alright?" He nodded. The man asked another one, "How did you need up here?"

"I-I, I don't remember." His mind was drawing a blank, then it hit hard. Who was he again?

"Mind telling us your name?" By now another person joined them. This one being a much taller man with heavy armor.

"I can't tell, what I don't know." Though if luck would have it, an abnormal grey bird with a rosey underbelly fluttered onto his shoulder. That's when it connected, something had tried to block his thought process. "A robin."

 _Signifies growth and renewal._ It was his voice in the back of his head as if reciting a line. "My-my name is-"

"Chrom! The village, there's smoke coming from it!" The blonde said wide eyed, pointing in the direction.

"Dastard Brigands!" Looking towards the man as the robin flies off. "We don't have time, it's my sincerest apologies. I advise you stay put."

"B-but Chrom what if they come this way?" The young lady spoke up, she sounded frightful. A chance they ended up killing off a person with a possible case of amnesia.

"No time, Lissa" the man with blue hair spoke an awful lot. Though it helped to pick up his name, Chrom. Knowledge is power, yet Chrom seemed like a funny name to him. Then again his own was Robin so he couldn't really judge. Regardless of where his thoughts ventured, the three had already headed towards the collapsing.

 _Follow them, help them. You are armed._

"Huh?" Robin looked around him to find the source and then decided to pat himself down to discover a fire tome and a bronze sword. With hesitation at start then rushing towards the village. Upon arrival, Robin noticed the horse rider was in the midst of battle knocking an enemy off their feet. Chrom was focusing on a mage that has managed to keep their distance while the lady was constantly healing him.

Swiftly Robin pulls out the tome and casts the fire spell at the mage. Knowing Chrom would be better against a non distance fire made contact and burned the man alive, collapsing in a pile of heat. Chrom turned to see Robin with his hand extended.

"You know how to fight?" Robin nodded before looking at the rest of the fighting.

"Sir, aim for those who wield an axe, the swords distance is your leverage!" Chrom was the one to nod this time. "Protect the girl! Sir on the horse, aim for those who are going for a distance attack! Slowly creep up onto the captain!" Robin was shouting, his voice was raspy and his uncertainty was high.

Chrom gave him a small smile, before charging close to the girl and fighting those purely of swords and axes. While the horseman was hesitant of the orders, he dashed through the enemies. After a few bandits in, they were a few yards from the leader.

"Here, sheepy sheepy! Come to the slaughter!" With a hellish laugh, he twirled the axe once. Not waiting for them to get closer, he charged in swinging. Aiming purely for Chrom than the rest he swung with strength only for it clash.

Chrom pushed the captain away, adjusting the sword and preparing to strike back. Yet before he had the chance the man had got shot back by an electrical burst. Falling onto his back, smoke rose off his body. Turning his head, Chrom saw Robin with his hand outstretched. The shock of killing another was long gone when several of the captain's men had tried to end them.

"May, may we please go?" It was weak, yet his voice still stuck in the other's ears. Chrom smiled slightly before nodding. The person who Chrom introduced as Frederick mid battle to Robin while they were defending had spoke to a villager before returning to them.

"The village shall be fine, we should proceed back home and figure out what to do with this sleeper."

"It's actually Robin, I remembered it right before the battle. I was meaning to tell, but everyone was busy. Though now that those people are safe with minimum fatalities. Where are we?"

"You, my friend are in Ylisse." Chrom gestured towards the other two, "And we are Shepherds."

"I don't believe shepherds tend to sheep in armor and well armored."

"Maybe our sheep are in danger by some villainous wolves?" Robin raised an eyebrow, obviously amused by these shepherds. His anxiety over the entire event was fading as he felt they were genuine.

"Regardless of our sheep." the healer spoke, "My name is Lissa. My brother, Chrom can be a little clumsy so our big friend Frederick the Wary is also around to make sure we all end up okay." She seemed cheerful, or maybe just the glint of mischievous is what set Robin slightly off.

The group traveled for hours until the sun started setting, though Lissa was the only one with energy because she rode on of Frederick's horse as the rest walked. Setting up for their camp, Frederick found some bear for them to eat near by. Not much of help when only Chrom and Robin tore into the meat. Lissa refused and Frederick nibbled on it barely before dropping it.

The night set and most were asleep. Lissa having woken up by something bizarre went to check it out. The woods were a dark place being cascaded in the shadows of the night. As the only light came down from the ever so bleak moon. For Lissa to venture out by her lonesome was worrying for Chrom. He left to follow her when the ground broke and fire spewed out.

Meteor like lumps crashed and when the smoke barely faded. They rose. They were not human, no they were ash gray groaning creatures with a bright purple glow for their eyes. Wielding an axe or sword as they still try to build all the way up. Gas of some kind dissipated from their bodies. Not taking any type of scenery in that they ruined. They charged the siblings with killing intent.

Robin having no idea of what has occurred merely followed Frederick in hopes that he could figure out why the sudden flames that brighten the sky having once been dark. The shakened earth was more unsettling. Frederick having the advantage of his horse rushed off in the direction that he last heard screams. Thought Robin could've sworn not hearing a scream. Regardless after some faulty footing due to high roots and low branches from the trees.

"Milord! Milady! Are you alright?" The call drew in attention towards the pair from both Chrom and his sister Lissa, but as well with a man clad in pure garments donning a rather delicate mask. This man turned their head towards Frederick and Robin, his hair was the same deep cobalt like that of Chrom. Now that Robin actually looked at them straight on he noticed that the man's frame was a petite and rather fragile build compared to Frederick.

"Yes, we're fine! Frederick, take Lissa! We have unexpected company!" Chrom shouted, sword unsheathed. As Lissa ran over to the bulky man and Robin rushed outwards to help his savior. Taking out his tome and starting up the rather easy spell before shooting fire at a rotting creature as it slowly made it's way closer to them. Their newest battle wasn't like the previous one that was hours ago, no this was something different. Their enemies didn't seem human or in this case they didn't scream insanities at them or anything. Only muttering nonsense.

Chrom having explained the ruined building that laid to waste before them being forts destroyed a while back. Though he also noted to Robin that these creatures were not a normal occurrence and aren't of Ylisse. Having gotten separated by a small group of creatures attacking almost every side. Their battle drew out further away than expected.

Mid way through the battle was when Robin noticed three additional people fighting alongside them. It took one saving his life, though he is beginning to wonder if wearing a mask is important when fighting. The thought only arose because it was first that man in all blue with a mask and now there was another man with rusting red hair wearing an all black uniform except for his mask was a brilliant white kitsune mask with minimum detail. The other two were near Chrom and well a sailor would be embarrassed by the remarks another redhead.

Though kitsune guy was worse than the first masked one. Robin couldn't tell if he was purposely aiming for him at times because there was several close calls with the kitsune. What was worse was that the kitsune man seemed to have incredible strength and wields three different types of weapons. Gulping slightly at the thought of having to versus the guy, though he wouldn't forget that their combination was absolutely amazing.

Whilst Robin was worrying for his life due to a somewhat ally. Chrom was being assisted by an archer who was constantly trying to impress that of a cavalier in red. The words that cavalier spoke made even Chrom shiver at a few remarks. Slicing one down and looking in the distance to see the man who saved his sister was fighting what looked to be the chief. The grace of his movements were stunning, but something was off. 'How did he make it to Lissa before anyone ever noticed his presence?'

"Shut it already archer, if you wish to end up on the same side of the lance as these, these monsters, I would then suggest to keep it up!" The cavalier growled. "Lord Chrom, I think the monster crawled up this one's ass and has been possessing him!"

Chuckling lightly at her temper, "Sully please refrain from hurting the poor man." Shoving one onto it's back before impaling it with it's sword. The dissolving of the creature seemed more like a relief now due to the strain of his muscles from the earlier battle. Checking the battlefield once again having seen no real threat ahead considering the susceptible philanderer shoot down another few creatures, but that was it.

"Lord Chrom, we seem to have routed the enemy." Frederick had called out with Lissa visible on the back of the horse. Both of them noticeably relieved more so than the start of this. Chrom nods toward them with a small smile resting easy. Marth eventually way over to them, though he spoke nothing as he seemed to be checking for visible wounds.

"Thank you sir for saving my sister's life."

He only nodded.

"I am Chrom, may I ask what you're name is?"

"You may call me Marth."

"Oh? Like after the hero of-"

"Augh!"

"Huh?!" Looking in the direct of the voice only for the view to be blocked by trees and possibly a fort. Gritting his teeth, Chrom rushed towards their new amnesiac friend. "Frederick! I thought you said there was no more!"

"I assure you milord there is none" His horse was galloping to Chrom's pace if any other attacks were to occur. The rest of the group followed.

Marth seeming to have sprinted ahead of the entire group and before disappearing behind the fort walls that were barely standing. He unsheathed his sword charging forward. Yet when he got there and already lunged at the enemy. It was human, it wasn't what he dealt with countless times. This man concealed himself much like Marth, though how his sword seemed to dance around as if this was a measly game angered him. Looking past the man, Marth clearly saw Robin gripping his shoulder that was stained red. Emitting a growl before slashing downwards at the mask.

Choosing to side step, the kitsune man then gripped Marth's arm and pulling the smaller man close to him with a sword to their throat. He decided now would be an opportune time for his escape, using Marth has his hostage to keep the others away.

Forcing Chrom and Frederick to freeze upon the two walking out. Robin even with adrenaline couldn't reach them as he stumbled to the ground from how light headed he has grown to be.

Falling down and unknown to Robin, was the second time he has fallen.


End file.
